


The House Always Wins

by Lywinis



Series: One Shots -- Capsicoul [9]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Casino, Capsicoul - Freeform, Darcy is the best wingman, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:51:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson, a blackjack dealer at the Bellagio in Las Vegas, is bored to tears on a dead table. Cue a visit from Steve Rogers, and he turns over an ace in a single night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The House Always Wins

The saying ‘ _what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’_ was never quite true in Phil’s opinion. He’d never seen anyone walk away from his table as a loser and not have that cloud follow them. He felt bad, but it wasn’t like he was strapping them to the table and emptying their wallets for them. Sometimes, though, it felt like he was contributing to something bad that would happen whenever the vacation was over. It wasn’t, in fact, uncommon to watch someone empty out their bank account to try and get back up into the black.

Phil’s advice was usually to play a set amount. If you lost it, cut yourself off. That would save you quite a bit.

He didn’t have advice for the assholes who didn’t tip and hit on the waitresses with a leer. He just took them for everything they had and then some, smiling his placid smile the entire way. He was, in essence, an entertainer. He worked for tips, and he refused to let grabby assholes get him down.

He let out a breath on his game, glad it was dead as he braced his palms flat on the felt. His uniform, the classic dress shirt and pants with the trim waistcoat cut to emphasize his torso, itched under the lights and the smoke. He’d been pondering his life a while, and while the money was good, something seemed to be missing. Then again, he’d been here for close to two decades, doling out cards to people from all over the world, ready to come in and take a shot at Nevada’s City of Gold.

“Bumpty-bump,” he muttered to himself, flashing a smile at the crowds to try and draw them in to his table. “Come on guys, come and play with me. Got a nice hot table and a fresh deck of cards, right here for you!”

If he were dealing and running his mouth, he wouldn’t be thinking.

A couple of people came and sat at the table, and Phil set his hands to working, cutting and shuffling his deck as bills were placed on the table. He sized them up. Pretty standard fare, a friendly-looking dark haired man, a lovely brunette with a little too much lipstick on, and…hello.

Phil caught his breath a bit, and no one but security probably caught the minute stutter in his shuffle as he caught the eye of the man who sat down with the other two. Friends, most likely, considering the lively conversation between them hadn’t stopped when they seated themselves.

“Howdy, folks, welcome to the Bellagio. My name’s Phil. Happy to have you playing with me tonight. You played blackjack before?” he asked, sweeping his eyes across them and trying not to let his gaze linger too much on the man seated on the end. He was good looking, more than most, and while Phil had seen his share of hot men and women in the crowd that passed through the doors (had even gossiped about them with Clint and Natasha in the break room), it had been a while since he’d been gobsmacked by the sight of someone sitting at his table.

The answer was, of course, to turn on the charm.

He exchanged their cash for them, doling out checks with quick snaps of his wrists and a wide smile. He caught the blonde man’s eye, and was rewarded with a faint blush. Interesting. He counted out their checks for them, sliding them across and stacking them neatly.

“Bucky has, a bit,” said the man, and he had a nice baritone, Phil thought, carrying across the casino. “I’m Steve.”

He offered a hand, and Phil shook his head, avoiding the outstretched hand.

“Sorry, Steve, much as I would like to, all this money on the table means I can’t shake.” Steve dropped his hand, blushing harder, and Phil smiled. “Tell you what, you can be polite another way. Drop a dollar or two on the table for me, if I do a good job, okay?”

He winked, and Steve nodded, going even redder. He turned his attention to the other two, who were watching Steve with rapt attention, both with wide smiles on their faces.

“You all friends, then?” he asked, dealing out the first hand. He was trying not to show off too hard, but Steve’s eyes on him made him preen a little, and he tucked the cards just right, flicking them into place. He was glad he was dealing pitch tonight, because the looks on their faces when he made the cards dance were just right.

“Sure are. Just got back from deployment,” the dark haired man said. Phil guessed this was Bucky, with the cocky attitude and the arm around the girl’s shoulders. “I figured we’d make a vacation out of it. Go figure, I just get back from the damn desert and everyone drags me out to Nevada.”

Phil laughed. “I hear you. I was in the Rangers back in the eighties. You army?”

“That’s me,” Bucky said, smiling. “Staff Sergeant. Darcy here doesn’t know what to do with herself now that I’m back.”

“Not true,” she said, stirring her straw through her drink and grinning at Phil. “I just can’t talk about it in polite company.”

“Well, I’m hardly polite company,” Phil said, grinning as she laughed, and flipped the first hand. An eighteen for Bucky, a seventeen for Darcy, and an immediate twenty-one for Steve, with a face and an ace. Phil smiled and paid him out, two and a half. “Well done. Welcome to Vegas, where you just won big.”

It was only about fifty bucks, but Steve’s eyes lit up.

“Hey, told you he was a lucky streak,” Bucky said, nudging Darcy. Darcy reached over and patted Steve on the forearm. Steve cut off a fiver from the top of his winnings and placed it down on the table.

“That for me?” Phil asked. Steve nodded, and Phil tapped the check against his tokebox and dropped it in. “Thanks so much, Steve, much obliged.”

He winked again, his attention divided between all three of them, but watching Steve look down, biting his lip from his peripheral was probably the best entertainment all night. Bucky decided to stand. Wise decision, as Phil was holding a ten facer and his hole was probably about the same. Darcy, it turned out, was the wilder one of the bunch, and hit. Phil flipped a three.

“Standing?” he asked. She waved her hands over the cards, and Phil nodded. “Good choice. Let’s see here…”

He flipped his hole card. A five, for a total of fifteen.

“Gotta hit that,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at Darcy, and she laughed again. He flipped another card, for an ace. “Well then, that’s a soft sixteen. Guess that means I need to hit again, since I have to stand on eighteen, right?”

The question was, of course, rhetoric. Phil could do it in his sleep by now, but he was watching Steve watch his hands with rapt attention. Phil flipped another card, a ten.

“Ow, you got me, folks,” he said with mock regret, paying out the other two. He cleared the cards and collected his tips. “Care to try again?”

They nodded.

“Excellent. If you want to place bets for me, you can just set them to the side of your bet, like so.” Phil demonstrated, shaving a check off of Darcy’s bet and setting it to the side before he replaced it. Steve, he noticed, plopped a tenner down for him. “Look at you, highrolling your very first time in Vegas. I like it, I like it.”

Phil’s mouth was on autopilot, and he might have been flirting harder than normal. But dammit, he was cute, and Phil had a broken water heater waiting at home and this was good fun that he was getting paid for. Technically, it might have been hustling, but he didn’t mean any harm by it. He figured that if Steve was cute and tipping, he could stand to flirt a little bit.

Natasha passed by with her tray, pausing to give Phil a significant glance.

“You folks thirsty?” he asked, nodding at Natasha. Bucky turned, catching her glance, and his smile became a little predatory. Phil’s hands stiffened, but she could take care of herself. “Natasha here will get you guys something, if you want it.”

“We’re staying at the hotel, why not?” Darcy said, handing off her empty glass. “Can I get a rum and coke?”

“Sure thing,” Natasha said, glancing at Bucky and then giving Phil a subtle eye roll. “You gentlemen want anything?”

“Um,” Steve seemed to think about it for a second. “Can I get a ginger ale?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Steve.” Bucky shook his head. “Live a little. Can he get a little Jameson in that?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Natasha said. “And you?”

“Jack and coke, and your number if you got it,” Bucky said with a wink. Darcy whacked him in the side. Natasha’s lips parted in a smile, and Phil knew that rum and coke would be just strong enough to make the girl giggly, but not strong enough to make her play faster and looser than she was.

“Looks like you’re taken, otherwise I would. I can do the Jack and coke, though.” She sauntered away, her hips working. Phil’s gaze remained on the table, and Bucky’s remained on Natasha’s ass. Phil decided that it was time to take his money.

He proceeded to do so, scraping him off the floor three hands in a row, clearing his row of checks down to the last red. Bucky tossed another hundred on the table.

“You sure you want to do that, babe?” Darcy asked, settling her checks in her tray. “I mean, you can borrow some of mine…”

“Nope,” he said, pushing the money toward Phil. “Gonna win it all back.”

“Bucky,” Steve said, wrapping his hand around his sweating glass. “You had a set amount.”

“Dammit, both of you lay off.” Bucky raised his brows. “You got something to say, too?”

“Not me, hoss. You want green or red?” Phil asked, exchanging it.

Bucky’s mood soured over the next hour. He’d win a little, but he was playing angry, and it made him reckless. Phil kept the cards coming, each hand making the soldier surlier and surlier.

When Clint came to tap him out, Phil had him down close to $500. He didn’t look happy, and when Clint tapped him on the shoulder, Bucky interrupted.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. “You’ve got to give it back.”

Phil cleared his hands, stepping away from the table and letting Clint step in. “Sorry folks, that’s me. Mandated by the government, I’ve got a twenty minute break. Clint here will take care of you for the duration. I’m gonna go grab a smoke and some dinner. Enjoy yourselves.”

* * *

 

He sat down outside, soaking in the warm evening air. Natasha was there, and she tossed him her lighter as he tapped his pack against his palm.

“He’s cute,” she said, smiling knowingly at him. Phil laughed, taking a drag and letting the smoke sear his lungs before he handed her the lighter back. “Very Americana and apple pie. Your type.”

“And not a chance in hell with him, though he blushes cutely.” Phil closed his eyes and took another drag. He didn’t smoke often, but tonight was going to be a long night if Bucky was still at his table when he got back. He could sense the storms brewing, knew when to hit the deck.

“His friend’s a jackass. Poor girl doesn’t deserve that.”

“Poor girl’s going to walk home with double what she came in with, if she keeps playing smart like she has been.” He laughed. “She’s up over a thou.”

She smirked. “Good. Your friend seems to be doing pretty well, too.”

“He’s up a good bit, too, although he spends half of it tipping me. I can’t complain, at least I’m not shaking my ass for it.” He shot her a look. “No offense, Nat.”

“None taken,” she said, laughing. “You’d wear the heels really well.”

“I do have nice legs,” he said, finishing his cigarette and crushing the butt out. “I’m gonna grab a sandwich. Want one?”

“Sure.”

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later after a cigarette and a rushed sandwich, he tapped Clint off, and settled back on his table. To his surprise, only Steve was left, shuffling his checks and looking up with a smile.

“Your friends call it a night?” he asked. Damn if he didn’t look edible in that polo, even though Phil himself would have chosen a nicer dress shirt for him.

“More like he dragged poor Darce to the poker room,” he said, looking a little glum.

“That poor woman. She color up and cash out?” he asked, shuffling the deck. Steve placed another bet, with another twenty for him. Phil smiled at him, knowing that he was being charming and not much else.

It didn’t hurt that he got that shy smile in return and the color that rushed into his face, either.

“She did!” Steve said, taking a sip of his soda. “She said she was ahead and so she should quit.”

“Good,” Phil said, nodding. “That’s the way to go about it. You get any more money in that pile of yours?”

He did a quick assessment. Looked like he was up quite a bit.

“Yeah, Clint was real nice, gave me a couple of real good hands,” Steve said, rolling a free check between his fingers as Phil dealt. Hard thirteen for Steve, ace for himself. He checked, and was glad it wasn’t a face. Steve hit, and Phil pulled an eight for him. “Although nothing like you’re giving me. You sure you’re not stacking the deck on me?”

“Positive,” Phil said, flipping his hole card to reveal an eight. He paid Steve out, smiling. “No matter how cute you are, I’m not allowed to actually stack the deck for you.”

Steve took a gulp of his ginger ale, cutting his eyes away. Phil smiled and looked down to concentrate on his shuffle. He dealt out a new hand, glancing back up. Steve had fixed him with an unreadable expression, and Phil lifted his brows.

“I was wondering. When do you get off your shift?” he asked.

“Me?” Phil asked, going through the hand. “I’m off at midnight. I worked a split today, off tomorrow. Why?”

“I was wondering, did you want to get some coffee after?” Steve looked down at the stack of checks that had grown steadily over the course of the evening. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it would be my treat.”

“Normally I’d jump at the chance,” Phil said, clearing his throat and ordering his rack, shuffling the cards again when he’d done his maintenance. “I don’t date customers, though. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “I see.”

He tapped a check against the felt for a moment. “Sorry to have wasted your time, then.”

“Who, me?” Phil asked. He chuckled. “Steve, you’re the most interesting and engaging person I’ve spoken with all night—all week, if I’m honest, but there’s a hard and fast rule in place. If you weren’t staying at the hotel, I might have considered it, but—“

“I’m not, though. We’re down the street at the Mirage,” he said.

“Really,” Phil said, musing. Steve looked hopeful. “Okay. I get off in an hour. You can keep playing, or you can cash out now and wait for me. I really shouldn’t, but…if you want to get coffee, then we will.”

“Great! This is great. Where did you want to meet?” Steve asked. Phil would have sworn the young man was vibrating with excitement.

Phil smiled. “Wait for me in front of the fountain?”

Steve nodded, and as he busted out on his hand, he pushed his checks forward. “I think I’d like to color up, then.”

“Wise decision, sir.” Phil counted him out and then arranged his tray. Steve pocketed his checks and gave Phil a shy smile as he wandered off to cash out. Oh, Phil was going to enjoy this.

* * *

 

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Most nights that was the case, but tonight was even worse. He counted down and locked up, tagged off the game by Nick, the pit boss. He just grinned when Nick asked him what he was up to that had him in such a hurry.

The fountain was one of the Bellagio’s selling points, colored jets of water in an impressive display almost three stories high, but Phil wasn’t paying attention to the water. Instead, he caught sight of a blonde head searching the crowd, and he wandered forward.

“Hey,” he said, smiling up at the younger man. “Ready to get out of here?”

Steve started, then looked down at him, and startled again. “You changed.”

“I don’t like walking in and out in work clothes,” Phil said. “I have a locker.”

He was dressed in jeans, his motorcycle boots, and a silk shirt, casual for this end of the strip, but still pretty dressy. Steve reached up as though to touch his sleeve, and then dropped his hand.

“I honestly thought you wouldn’t come,” he said. It sounded like he was admitting it to Phil, and Phil smiled.

“I meant it when I said I don’t normally do this.” They started walking, the crowds still pretty thick even this close to the wee hours of the morning. “In fact, you’re the first time.”

“Really?” Steve asked. “Why me?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe it’s your face. Or because you’re so enthusiastic about it. Your friends know you’re out?”

“I think they hit the sack,” Steve said. “Bucky didn’t answer his phone. I sent Darce a text.”

“Mm,” Phil said as they strolled.

“So, where are we going?” Steve asked, their shoulders brushing.

“There’s an IHOP down the street off the strip. I figured their coffee is as good as anyone’s, and it’s cheaper than paying the prices of the cafes on the strip itself.” Phil paused. “That’s okay, right?”

“Fine by me,” Steve said. “Is it as busy as it is out here?”

“Not usually. People tend to stick to the strip. What you see here are mostly tourists.” Phil smiled down at the sidewalk. “The place is a spot for dealers when they get off, but it’s pretty scarce until swing gets off right around four or five. I was an early out tonight.”

Steve nodded. “Sounds good. You live here long?”

“Long enough,” Phil said, watching people pass them by. He turned down a side street, Steve close to him. “Long enough to know my job and pass up several promotions simply because it would be a pay cut.”

“Must be exciting, talking to new people all the time,” Steve said.

“It can be,” Phil said. “What do you do for a living?”

“I draw. I’m an art student. Bucky sprang for the trip, and now I can pay for books and classes next semester and then some.”

“Well, good. Don’t go back in and sit down at my table again. I’ll have you eighty-sixed. See the sights, walk around, but don’t gamble again.” Phil said, his voice serious.

“I think I gambled enough asking you out for coffee, really. I thought maybe you and that cocktail waitress—“

“Natasha?” Phil asked, then laughed. “She’s a great friend, but we determined a long time ago that we were better friends than partners.”

“So you…?” Steve’s neck had to be a bright pink by now, though Phil couldn’t see it in the dark.

“No, we never really did. She’s a good friend, but our personalities clash. She and Clint get along much better.” Phil noticed that the crowd had thinned, and took a chance, slipping his hand into Steve’s. The larger fingers tightened around his, and Phil’s smile got a little wider. “What about you, then? Got a girl back home? Boyfriend?”

“I wouldn’t be here if that was the case,” Steve said.

“Yeah, I never bought into that whole _what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas_ thing. Everything follows you, if you’re not careful. I’ve been a very careful bachelor for quite some time, but I’m willing to make the odd exception.”

“Oh?” Steve asked, his face painted in shadows from the bright restaurant signage. “Like for who?”

“For a leggy blonde who took a hell of a lot of money from me tonight, for starters.” Phil paused, tilting his head up at Steve. “You don’t seem like the type of guy to do transient one night stands.”

“I’m not.” Steve said, swallowing. “We’re in town for the week. We go back to New York on Sunday.”

“That’s not a one night stand, if I’m reading between the lines right.” Phil peered through the shadows at Steve. “What’ll you do when it’s time to go home?”

“Hopefully by then I’ll have your number,” Steve blurted, and Phil laughed.

“Fair enough,” Phil said. “If you decide to visit Vegas again you can look me up.”

“Oh,” Steve said.

“Steve,” Phil said, not unkindly, “I’m a guy you met while you were on vacation. I don’t think there’s anything solid there. I’m also probably twice your age. If you’re looking for some fun, I can appreciate it. I don’t think there’s anything long term here.”

His heart sank a little as he said it, but Phil was a practical man, and it was only fair that Steve know the hard facts. It was a shame, too; he liked the guy. Perhaps more than he cared to admit.

“Okay.” Steve said, getting quiet, and Phil took the silence to mean that he should withdraw his hand. Steve didn’t open his fingers, though, and Phil left his hand where it was after a moment. They still hadn’t moved, and Phil glanced over at Steve.

Steve pushed him up against the wall and kissed him.

…oh. Oh, he was good at that. Steve was solicitous, nipping at Phil’s lip and asking for entry, and Phil obliged with a soft noise, swallowed by Steve’s eager, questing mouth. Phil’s hands sank into Steve’s hair, and the blonde moaned, a noise that Phil drank up like wine.

Steve pulled back, breathing hard and mussed, and Phil looked up at him, wondering if he looked like Phil felt.

“My room at the Mirage is a private one,” Steve said. “If we only have a little time, I’d like to make it fun.”

“That’s the spirit,” Phil said, pulling Steve down for another kiss, bringing them flush and hip to hip.

* * *

 

It was hard to keep his hands off of Steve in the elevator, but Phil managed, following Steve into his room and letting the door shut behind him before Steve had him pressed against it, hands wandering under his untucked shirt. Phil groaned, and Steve flipped on the light.

“I want to see you,” Steve said, his blue eyes dark and stormy, and Phil wondered which of the Karmic gods he’d pleased.

Phil reached out and skinned Steve out of his shirt, the undershirt coming with it, and Phil let out another low noise, running his tongue over his lower lip.

“Is…this okay?” Steve asked.

“Better than okay,” Phil said. “Amazing. Do you have…?”

Steve turned around, glancing at the bed, and Phil watched the flush creep down his chest. There was a gift bag sitting on the end of the bed. Steve gave a small shake of his head.

“I bet I know who thought I might.” He opened the card attached to the bag. “Yep, thank god for Darcy.”

He dumped out the bag, and Phil laughed. Condoms, lube, and a pair of handcuffs that were covered in fuzzy pink faux fur and quickly shoved into a drawer completed the gift.

“Remind me to buy her a fruit basket or something, she is the best wingman ever.”

Steve shook his head, still laughing. “She really is.”

Phil shoved Steve down onto the bed, moving the paraphernalia to the nightstand and sucking a welt into Steve’s neck with a growl. Steve shuddered and pulled him with him onto the bed, and Phil kicked off his shoes, pulling his shirt off as he straddled Steve. He smiled down at Steve, who reached up and ran his hands along Phil’s chest, fingers light and ghosting.

Phil rolled his hips, pulling a hiss from kiss-bitten lips, and Steve flipped them, kicking his own shoes off as he leaned over Phil, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Phil murmured, reaching up to touch. Steve leaned into his fingers, his own hands exploring Phil’s chest as he kissed paths across it. Phil cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss, bringing their hips flush.

“I’ve never…” Steve looked down. “I’m not good with one night stands.”

“Neither am I.” Phil rubbed his thumbs into Steve’s hipbones. “Let me?”

Steve nodded, and Phil squirmed out from underneath him, settling on his knees and helping Steve onto his back. He undid the buttons to Steve’s khakis, sliding his hands beneath the waistband, pressing kisses to the stomach there.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, Steve lifting his hips to wiggle the pants down and off. Phil bent to nose at the soft material of Steve’s boxer-briefs, and managed to get a moan and a roll of Steve’s hips when he pressed a kiss to the half-hard length of Steve’s cock.

“Please,” Steve said, his voice thick with want. “Phil, I need you to…”

“I know,” Phil said, pulling the box of condoms toward him and sliding one on Steve after rolling the material of his underwear back. “Let me take care of it, okay? Let me take care of you. Have you done this before, with a guy?”

“Back in high school, but I don’t think we did it right.”

“Might not have,” Phil said with a chuckle. He kissed the side of Steve’s cock, and the other man twitched, moaning. “You’re so responsive. God, what’s it going to look like while I’m riding that cock of yours?”

Steve’s moan was a little louder, almost a stifled whimper, and Phil looked up to see him watching what was going on, his eyes a little glazed.

“I think I want to find out,” Phil said, standing up and pulling the lube towards him.

He was glad for it, because it had been a little while. He warmed the bottle between his hands before he shimmied out of the rest of his clothes and settled on the bed next to Steve. He reached down, swirling the lube down against himself, and gave a hitching breath that turned into a moan when Steve rolled over and took over. He slid a slick finger into Phil, leaning down for a kiss as Phil writhed beneath him.

“You look good like that,” Steve said, pressing a kiss to Phil’s ear and working down to his neck. One finger became two, and Phil lost himself a little in the sensation as he fucked himself on Steve’s fingers. He wasn’t one for this, not normally, but something about the slight glaze to Steve’s blue eyes and the way he bent to kiss Phil made him a little wilder than he anticipated. He reached out and pulled open another condom, stroking himself to hardness and sliding it on, just in case.

He wasn’t sure how long he was going to last, but he wanted it to be safe and easy clean up. Pushing Steve onto his back, he threw a leg over Steve’s slender hips and rose over him, teasing the head of Steve’s cock by rubbing against it, leaning down and catching the moan in a heated kiss before he guided himself down, sliding onto Steve with a low sound of completion. Inch by inch, until he was settled onto Steve’s hips, and he watched the play of sensation across Steve’s face.

“That’s what I wanted to see.” Phil smoothed sweat-damp hair from Steve’s face before he lifted himself. He slid back down with that delicious sliver of friction that overcame the burn, and Phil sighed in satisfaction, Steve’s hands resting on his hips. Phil set a slow, aching pace, even with the frantic way they’d pulled each other’s clothes off.

“God, Phil,” Steve said, his head thrown back as his hips arched against him. “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” Phil said, his palms braced against Steve’s chest as he leaned forward to kiss Steve again. He sped up, just a bit, and was rewarded with Steve’s fingers digging into his hips as Steve took over the pace, guiding them as he arched his hips against Phil’s.

Phil’s hand went to his cock, and one of Steve’s joined it, soft strokes that turned harder as he bucked against Steve’s hips, rattled with the force of it. It had been far too long for him, and he shuddered into it, his whole body tightening as his release ripped through him. He cried out, sinking down onto Steve’s chest, mouthing kisses against him as Steve rode it out, and then sped up, thrusting hard against Phil until he could feel the pulse of Steve’s climax as he shuddered and slowed his thrusts until they were lazy and shallow.

He pulled Phil up for a kiss.

“I want to do that again,” he said, laying his head back with a thump.

Phil let out a breathless laugh. “Give me an hour, hour and a half.”

Steve chuckled and pulled out, making Phil whimper and curl against his chest. A broad hand made its way down his shoulder blades, and Phil smiled, pressing a kiss to Steve’s chest. It was…nice.

Phil didn’t want to think about the implications of that.

Steve smiled back, working out from underneath Phil and wobbling to the bathroom to clean up and bring back a warm washcloth for him. Phil gave a soft moan as Steve bent over to kiss him as he wiped him down, then tossed the cloth on the floor and crawled into bed next to Phil.

“Stay with me?” he asked, looping an arm around Phil.

“Yes, for tonight,” Phil said. “One condition though.”

“Oh?” Steve asked.

“Let me buy you breakfast.”

Steve smiled and nosed into Phil’s neck, pressing small kisses to the skin. “Deal.”

“Not right now, I’m off duty.” Phil mumbled it into Steve’s shoulder to Steve’s quiet laughter as they both drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if any of you actually work at the Bellagio. I worked at the Harrah's in Tunica for a little while. I'm shocked at how much I remember about procedure. Hope you enjoyed, Constant Readers1
> 
> \--Lywinis


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